Hey Arnold! The Jungle Movie
by HeyArnoldFan101
Summary: He's wanted his parents for his entire life. Now he has his chance.
1. Chapter 1: The Contest

**Disclaimer: Hey Arnold! and The Jungle Movie storyline belong to Craig Bartlett and Nickelodeon.**

Arnold Shortman slipped into his new 5th grade classroom, after having extended vacation while the school searched for a new 5th grade teacher.

He made his way to an empty desk, right next to his best friend, Gerald.

"Hey Arnold, what happened to you yesterday? Why didn't you come to DinoLand with the rest of us?" Harold called from a few seats back.

Arnold felt his cheeks grow hot. "I, um, I had something to, uh, do. Sorry, I'll definitely come next time," he answered, looking down. As soon as he knew no one was paying attention to him anymore, he turned to Gerald. "I've got something really cool to show you at lunch," he whispered.

Gerald raised an eyebrow, but made no comment. Everyone quieted down when Principal Wartz came in.

"Hello, class. As you all know, my name is Principal Wartz. I hope you all had fun on your extended Summer vacation, while us people in charge slaved away trying to find a replacement teacher." He looked over his glasses at the students. "Anyway, since every single teacher in this whole city is currently working, we bumped up your old teacher, Mr. Simmons, from 4th grade to 5th grade. Here he is," Principal Wartz finished, and moved out of the way to let Mr. Simmons walk in.

"Hello boys and girls! I was so very excited to hear that I will be teaching you a second time, so I decided that instead of doing work, we'll play some fun games! Doesn't that sound great?"

The class looked blankly at him.

Mr. Simmons cleared his throat and tugged at his collar. "Um, well then, I suppose we don't have to do that. We'll just get started doing some-"

He was cut off my Principal Wartz yelling "PSST!" and motioning for the teacher to come out in the hallway.

Mr. Simmons glanced up from some papers he was holding, then smiled at the class. "Well, it seems that your principal would like to have a private word with me in the hallway. Just talk amongst yourselves until my return," he told them, then left the classroom.

As soon as he was in the hallway, he turned to the principal. "What is it, Wartz?"

"I've just been informed that the city is holding an essay contest, and P.S. 118 has been chosen to be one of the participants. I have to go around to every classroom and ask the teachers if they would like their class to be in it. Since you have so many bright students, I thought I'd start here. Do you accept the offer?" Principal Wartz finished, cracking his knuckles.

"Oh, definitely! What do they have to do?"

"Well, I have to choose one class from each grade to try out. They all write essays on where they would like to go more than anywhere else in the world. They hand in their essays to you, and you submit them to me. I will choose the best essay, and that student will represent P.S. 118. I give their essay to the people in charge of the contest, and they choose a winner from all 5 schools participating. If we win, the student's class gets to go to the place the student picked out. Any questions?"

Mr. Simmons grinned and shook his head. "No, Mr. Wartz, thank you," he said, then opened the door to his classroom.

The children's heads jerked up when their teacher walked back in. "Class, I have some very exciting news. Our city is holding an essay contest!" He then proceeded to tell the students about the rules and what was going to happen.

"If you want to participate, please sign your name on the board," he finished, gesturing to the black board at the front of the room.

Half of the class stood up and strolled to the board, scribbling their names in chalk.

Arnold was one of them.


	2. Chapter 2: The Discussion

Once lunchtime rolled around, all the kids rushed outside to discuss the essay contest.

"What are you going to write about, Helga?" Phoebe asked her best friend, after explaining why she would go to China.

"Are you kidding me? D'hoy, Paris of course! It's the most romantic place on this entire planet!" she exclaimed, glancing at Arnold when she came to the 'romantic' part.

"I'm going to write about Africa. Do you KNOW how many insects there are there?" Nadine asked Rhonda.

"No, Nadine, how many?"

"Over 9,000!" Nadine whispered excitedly. "Where do you want to go, Rhonda?"

"England! I want to meet the Queen," Rhonda said importantly.

"Hey, she might hire you as a fashion consultant!" Nadine added.

"Probably," Rhonda replied.

"Well, I'M going to write about the SEA!" Curly screeched, jumping in front of everybody. "Just think! We could explore the depths of the ocean, learn about creatures we never even knew EXISTED! And, the boys could save the girls from sharks! It's perfect!" Curly finished, looking proud of himself.

Everyone shared a glance, then Helga spoke up. "Just one question, moron, how will we BREATHE?"

Curly opened his mouth to answer, then scowled and stepped back.

Everyone talked over each other, telling their friends where they wanted go and how they would write their essay, until Harold noticed something.

"Hey, Arnold hasn't said what he would write about! Tell us Arnold!" he yelled at Arnold.

Everyone gathered around Arnold, burying him with questions, when Arnold put his hand up. "Well, my answer also ties in with the reason I didn't go to DinoLand yesterday. You see, my parents were explorers, and they went to San Lorenzo when I was a baby to help their friends, these mysterious people, The Green Eyes. They said they would only be gone for a month or so, but instead, they just went missing and I haven't seen them since they left when I was almost 2. Yesterday was October 5th, the 8 year anniversary since they left, so I wasn't really feeling up to DinoLand. Anyway, I went up to the attic and found an old journal of my dad's. My grandpa read it to me, and I found an old map at the end of the book. It was a map of San Lorenzo! So, I'm going to write about San Lorenzo and why I want to go there," Arnold finished, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well, you're pretty stupid if you even think you have a CHANCE of finding them," Helga sneered. "They're probably long dead. At the most, you might find a pile of bones."

Arnold sighed, knowing Helga wouldn't understand. "I just want to know what happened. It's my only chance," he tried to explain.

Helga rolled her eyes, and the talk turned to other things. When she was sure nobody was watching, she raced at the speed of light to the other side of the building.

"Oh, Arnold!" she exclaimed, starting one of her many poetic monologues and taking out her locket. "How heroic you are for searching for your parents! How kind and caring you are for never giving up hope that you will find them! How I wish I could support you in this time of need, but alas, I do not have enough strength to be nice. Oh, Arnold, why can't you see past my mean, blustery exterior and into my good-hearted center? I love you, but I cannot show it." She sighed, put the locket away, and joined the other kids.


	3. Chapter 3: Writer's Block

Arnold casually crumpled and tossed the 5th piece of paper over his shoulder and into the trash can. He rubbed his fingers against his temples and groaned, then slammed his fists down against his des and went outside to play ball with everyone at Gerald Field.

'This is too hard,' he thought as he walked. 'I'll never be able to think of something good.'

On the bus the next day, he told Gerald of his problems, unaware that Helga was listening in.

"Yeah, it was horrible. I tried 5 different times!" Arnold exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"Wow," Gerald said, raising his eyebrows. "What a waste of paper."

"Yeah," Arnold replied, his face drooping.

"What are you two losers going on about?" Helga said, poking her face around the seat.

"Arnold here had writer's block last night and couldn't think of anything good for his essay."

Helga opened her mouth to say something rude, then shut it, looking thoughtful. "Well, I bet $5.00 that I can help Arnold write an essay in 3 hours."

Arnold and Gerald shared a look. "You'd really help me?" Arnold asked, skeptical.

"It's not like I'll do it for YOU, football head," Helga scoffed. "I'll do it for the money, when I win."

"IF you win," Gerald corrected her.

"WHEN."

"Well, alright, I guess you can help me. But Helga, I'm just saying, this needs to be the best essay in the world. It's my only-"

"Chance to find your parents, yeah, you told me already," Helga cut him off. "It'll be the best, I promise."

"Well, okay then! I'm glad we have this arranged. Do you want to do it at your house?"

"Uh, sure Arnold, mine's alright. I-I mean, yeah, come to my house after school today, got it Arnoldo?" Helga asked, clenching her fists.

"Yeah, sure, I got it."

The bus stopped, and the children got off. Before she went inside the building, however, Helga ducked inside an alley, pulled out her locket, and sighed.


	4. Chapter 4: Editing

**A/N: Hi! I don't really put Author's Notes, but I just had to this time. The little flashback in here was inspired by this really cool drawing on Deviant Art. I'll put the link right here: **

**http : / / shaami . deviant art . com / gallery / ? off set = 48 # / d2o3kgv**** (except with no spaces.) Alright, let's get on with the story!**

* * *

><p>Arnold got off the bus with his backpack in hand, and checked his watch to make sure he had the right time. 'Yup, 3:30,' he thought, stepping up to the door and knocking. It opened to reveal Big Bob, who looked very annoyed.<p>

"Are you one of Olga's friends?" he growled.

"Um, well, HELGA'S helping me with some work," Arnold replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. YO HELGA! THERE'S SOME BLONDE KID AT THE DOOR, SAYS YOU WERE GONNA HELP HIM WITH SOMETHING! GET YOUR KEESTER DOWN HERE PRONTO!" Big Bob bellowed, cupping his hands over his mouth.

"Yeesh, Bob, I'm coming, I'M COMING! Criminey!" Helga yelled. Arnold heard her footsteps as her father left the room.

Helga appeared at the top of the stairs, and motioned for Arnold to follow her. She gulped, nervous, and twisted her hands around her back, sweat pouring down her face. It would be the second time Arnold was in her room, the first being towards the end of fourth grade, when they had to do a book report together. Once Arnold had left, she retreated to her shrine to yell at herself for being mean to him yet again. But apparently, Arnold had left some work in her room, and when he returned to get it he heard something in the closet. She opened the door at the exact moment Arnold reached for the knob, and had to make a not-well-thought-out excuse.

"_Ya-ya know Football Head, you r-really d-don't want to go in there," Helga had said, slamming her back against the door._

"_Why?" Arnold had asked, peering at the closet, his curiosity obvious._

"_Well, I-it's just a CLOSET, I mean, why would that be interesting?" Helga replied, pushing herself harder against the wood._

"_Because if it really was 'just a closet', you wouldn't be telling me not to go in there," Arnold pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest and smirking._

'_Shoot,' Helga thought, mentally whacking herself. This was serious. She would have to go the extreme. "YOU DON'T GO IN THERE BECAUSE I SAID SO!" she screamed at him, practically knocking him over._

"_Okay, okay, geez," Arnold said, putting his hands up while backing out of her room._

Helga forced her thoughts back to the present. They had arrived at her door, and she was just standing there like an idiot.

"Um, Helga, are you going to open the-"

"Yeah, I'll open the door, when I'm good and ready. Fine with you?" Helga cut in.

"Uh, sure," Arnold said, rolling his eyes.

Helga pushed open the door and set her stuff on her bed. Arnold followed her.

"So? Take out what you have so far," Helga commanded.

"I don't have anything so far. That's why I need help. I have writer's block. Do you know what that means?" Arnold asked.

"Duh, I know what that means, I'm not dumb! I've even experienced it myself," Helga replied.

Arnold was curious, but didn't want to say anything to offend her, so instead he pulled out his notebook and some pencils, and set them on the floor. "Do you have anything to lean on, like a book or something?" Arnold asked, glancing around the room.

"Well, there's a desk over there, stupid."

Arnold sighed. "No, I mean something that we can both see, because it would be hard for you to lean over a desk."

Helga trembled slightly at the thought of leaning over Arnold and sitting close to him, but she kept her face calm and her emotions in check. "Fine, I'll go grab a book."

"Great," Arnold said. He began thinking of how he should start his essay, his 'lead' as Mr. Simmons called it. After a few minutes, Helga reappeared with a book in her hands. Arnold took it from her, then did a double-take, seeing something odd. A piece of paper had been hastily taped to the cover and blurb of the book. Intrigued, he made to open the book, but Helga grabbed it from him and shut it tight..

"NO," she said firmly, her voice hard as steel. Arnold looked at the book, wondering what could possibly be in there that she didn't want anyone to know about. He gently took it back, sticking it under his notebook, and gestured to the spot next to him on the floor.

Helga sat.

Arnold opened his notebook, grabbed a pen and started writing the lead. Helga waited for him to finish. Once he was done, he handed it to her to read. Helga scanned it, then snorted.

"What?" Arnold asked.

"First of all, you keep switching from past-tense to present-tense," Helga said, giggling.

Arnold wrinkled his nose. "What does that mean?"

"It means-ok, imagine this," Helga said, trying to find a good example. "You're writing a story. In one sentence, you say, 'He walked to his door. Then he says,' see?"

"Oh," Arnold said, putting his hand to his cheek. "I get it."

"Fix it," Helga replied, handing him the notebook. He took it, and it went on like that for 3 hours. Arnold was exhausted and annoyed, with Helga nitpicking at every single little thing that needed to be fixed.

"Look, Helga, can't we just call it a night? It's 6:30," Arnold said, closing his notebook.

"Hey, YOU were the one who wanted it to be perfect. I was just doing my job," Helga protested.

Arnold considered this. She was right, but still, he was pretty sure they had made the essay as good as it was going to get. He told her this.

"Well…" Helga said, glancing out the window. "Alright," she gave in, standing up.

Arnold packed up his stuff, then went to the door. He hesitated, before turning back around. "Thanks, Helga," he said, smiling.

"Your welcome," Helga replied, almost adding 'Football Head' at the end, but stopping herself just in time.


End file.
